


The Male Vulcan in Mating Season

by eagle_of_idiocy (flamingofics)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Biology, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Frottage, Humor, Knotting, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pon Farr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 22:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7864030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingofics/pseuds/eagle_of_idiocy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There was a distinct shifting against Kirk’s ass, but he knew better. No, really, he totally knew better, because there was no way that </i>Spock was dry humping him<i>.</i></p>
<p>Or, six places in which Spock tried to make it with Kirk, and the one time and place Kirk finally got the hint and decided to help out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Male Vulcan in Mating Season

**Author's Note:**

> I guess... I have an affinity for Pon Farr fics? I don't even know.
> 
> This was written back in 2010 as yet another STXI Kink Meme prompt fill. This time around, the prompt in question asked for a fic in which Spock, undergoing the beginnings of Pon Farr, takes to mounting Kirk like a dog at every opportunity (who is not yet in THAT kind of relationship with Spock and has NO idea what the fuck is going on).
> 
> My sense of humor in this at times borders outright crack, but people still seemed to enjoy it the first time around. Hope it can stand the test of time. :p

**1\. On an away mission**

Zutra II reminded Kirk a lot of Earth in the springtime. Everywhere he looked was lush and green: vast, expansive fields of grass stretching out far into the horizon, and scattered patches of forest and flora dotting the remaining landscape with color. And over all of this there was a light layer of dew that gave off an impression not unlike the aftermath of a typical April shower.

Basically, it was really, really slippery everywhere the away team walked, and Kirk was more worried about the safety of his accompanying security officers than anything else at the time. It wasn’t that they didn’t kick ass when they needed to or were generally clumsy by default, but Kirk knew a potential death trap when he saw one. He was probably overreacting, since the _Enterprise_ had registered no significant life forms on the planet in its initial scan and thus there was no danger of something jumping out of nowhere and mauling them to death, but the last thing Kirk needed on such a routine mission was for one of his crew to slip on the wet ground and end up breaking their neck.

Because as sad as it would be, an accident like that on Kirk’s watch would be… well, really embarrassing.

He ended up splitting the away team up into pairs, sending each security member off with an individual science officer – it was a safer measure, he was sure – and remaining with Spock himself.

The half-Vulcan remained silent as he scanned the nearby area with his tricorder. If it seemed like Spock was being more tightlipped than usual, Kirk didn’t say anything about it. As good of friends as they had become over the first eight months of service together, Kirk realized there were still some things that Spock chose to keep to himself. (And after all, it wasn’t like his first officer regularly spilled his metaphorical heart out to him or anything, although Kirk certainly did feel a sense of openness between them.) He tried not to let it bother him too much, and he considered himself pretty good at succeeding most of the time, but _damn_ , was he still curious.

Kirk moved further ahead, scanning the surrounding area with his eyes. He heard Spock move forward along with him and had half a mind to turn and joke about how the planet’s scans must have been really boring if Spock was more interested in keeping up with him than collecting data.

His foot took the opportunity to slip out from under him at that moment and he pitched forward. Kirk shot his hands out instinctively, catching himself against the trunk of a tree, ending up bent slightly forward as his feet struggled to find traction on the slippery grass. Not even a second after catching himself, Kirk felt firm hands come forward to grip the sides of his waist as if to support him. Kirk grinned just a little, unable to help but feel flattered that despite his verbal distance for the past couple days, Spock was apparently still set on looking out for him.

Before he could get out a friendly, “Thanks, Spock,” the pair of hands slid down to curl around his hips and suddenly Spock was pressing up against him from behind.

At first Kirk thought that Spock may have slipped forward as well – it was a logical assumption, after all, the ground being so slick underneath their regulation boots – but then _oh shit, what the hell was Spock doing?_

There was a distinct shifting against Kirk’s ass, but he knew better. No, really, he totally knew better, because there was no way that _Spock was dry humping him_.

The voice of one of the science officers rang out somewhere behind them, and just as quickly as he’d started Spock was gone. Kirk immediately straightened, wobbling a bit on the wet grass before whirling around to stare at the half-Vulcan, who had already turned to address Lieutenant Hall as she emerged from behind a thick wall of foliage. Spock looked as prim and proper as ever, not even sparing Kirk a glance as he started walking off toward the Lieutenant. Kirk raised an eyebrow, unconsciously tugging the back hem of his gold tunic down over his rear as he struggled to sort out what had just happened.

Was Spock just trying to… get with him?

Seriously.

What. The. _Fuck_.

\---------------

**2\. Rec room five**

Kirk had completely forgotten about the first instance by the time it happened again a day later. By then, Spock’s previous level of sociability seemed to return and he and Kirk were interacting in their regular fashion again.

Tonight they were playing what was turning out to be a routine series of chess games. As usual, they kept one another’s game up with their individual strategies – or in Kirk’s case, the lack thereof – but even though Spock won nearly every match, Kirk couldn’t help but notice that the half-Vulcan seemed somewhat distracted. He couldn’t quite place his reasoning for the thought: Spock was talking to him in the same manner as always, and nothing in his demeanor suggested anything strange otherwise. But somehow, for some unexplainable reason, something was very slightly… off.

So he did the (later to be admitted) idiot thing to do and ignored it.

As the hour grew late, the other occupants of the rec room slowly filtered out one-by-one; only four crewmembers remained around by the end of their fifth game. Kirk began resetting the board for a sixth match, and he cursed silently when he happened to drop his queen onto the floor. He leaned over to pick it up, completely missing the perking expression on Spock’s face and the stiffening of his spine where he sat.

A sudden push on his back sent Kirk forward. Startled, he shot his arms out, catching and bracing himself on the table and sending a few chess pieces toppling. A familiar grip latched onto his hips and yeah, okay, Spock definitely had _not_ simply slipped and fallen against him by accident.

Kirk’s eyes glanced around at the remaining occupants of the room – none seemed to notice what was going on in their little corner. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

His face went lax with a silent gasp. Shit, Spock was really grinding against him this time. His first officer wasn’t making much noise at all, seemingly focused intently on maintaining contact with his captain’s ass, and _why_ exactly wasn’t Kirk telling Spock to stop?

Something hard poked at him between his cheeks and okay, yeah, now it was going a little overboard.

“Spock,” Kirk hissed, reaching around behind him and pushing back on Spock’s stomach. “ _Spock_ , stop.”

The motion stopped and after a short pause the strong hands released him and the contact was abruptly pulled away. When Kirk turned around Spock was back in his seat, hands primly steepled in front of his face and eyes averted to the side. Kirk mulled silently, hand gripping his recovered queen tightly. What the hell was up with Spock? Now that he knew that the instance the day before evidently wasn’t an accident, he thought hard in order to piece whatever it was together. Was it some kind of freaky Vulcan phase Spock was going through?

Kirk’s mind softened at the thought. If that was the case… well, at least it wasn’t like Spock was hurting anything, or him. If Spock didn’t want to talk about it, then it was probably a private thing. And if it was something really strange then Spock would have talked to Kirk about it, right? He could probably overlook it for now, at least unless it persisted.

Because, you know, it wasn’t like Kirk kind of liked it or anything. Nope. Totally not his motivation.

He reset the chess pieces and sat back down, shifting underneath the awkward silence that had descended over him and Spock. Eventually Kirk lightly cleared his throat and spoke. “So, uh… black or white?”

\---------------

**3\. The gym**

It was quickly apparent to him that Spock wasn’t doing it to anyone else.

Seriously. _No one else._

Kirk even had irrefutable proof on this. Earlier on shift, Uhura’s console had gone on the fritz. She’d helped Scotty when he came up to replace the unit wiring, which meant she remained almost constantly crouched down or bent over in order to reach the innards of the machine. Kirk himself admitted that while he wasn't actually interested in Uhura that way anymore, he’d at least appreciated the view.

But Spock, whose station was directly next to Uhura’s and who likely had the best viewing seat at the time? He'd done nothing – hadn’t even blinked. Which meant that right now, the only ass he had an eye for was apparently Kirk’s.

The man in question wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

In any case, Kirk chose not to distance himself from his first. If it really was some weird Vulcan affliction or ritual or whatever, then he would at least _be_ there for Spock. Random acts of humping aside, their interactions while working and during their time off-duty seemed as natural as they’d always been. Spock was still his friend and Kirk wouldn’t treat him any differently because of... well, yeah.

Regardless of that sentiment, deciding to go ahead with their weekly sparring match hadn’t really been Kirk’s best idea.

Not in _public_ , especially.

They were at it for only six minutes before it happened. After a brief hole had formed in his defenses, Spock had easily grabbed and twisted Kirk’s arm behind his back in a routine move and pushed the human forward with his body, pinning him face-down on the mat. Kirk pushed his knees under him and struggled briefly to regain control before he realized just how he was positioned: face and upper chest pressed into the mat while his ass remained sticking up in the air.

He could practically feel it the instance Spock realized it as well.

Before the _oh fuck_ could even register in Kirk’s mind Spock was completely on him, the one hand still pinning his arm to his back while the one remaining latched onto Kirk’s other arm and secured it to the mat. When Spock started thrusting Kirk struggled to keep from making any kind of noise; the half-Vulcan was already hardening and each movement was stimulating all of the wrong – right? – places. However, Kirk couldn’t fully repress the flush overtaking his cheeks once he remembered that there were other people directly around them. He risked a glance up. It wasn’t like they’d had a large audience around while they were sparring before but _oh for the love of fuck_ there were still people watching.

No one was saying anything; in fact, those who were still even watching him and Spock still seemed to be viewing them in the same manner as before. As soon as Sulu tossed out a comment to Chekov about “how efficient the commander’s pinning technique seemed to be,” it came to Kirk’s attention just how they appeared. Spock’s movements were actually minimal – tiny, fast, admittedly intimate thrusts that didn’t even require his hips to be separated from Kirk’s ass in order to be made – and apparently not as outwardly obvious as they felt for Kirk.

Well, that was just great. All the more humping for Spock to get away with.

On the other side of the room another sparring match was underway. Kirk couldn’t tell what move it was that Giotto employed on his opponent, but whatever it was it was good enough to draw any remaining attention away from his own mat. Taking the opportunity, Kirk started struggling, finally managing to push Spock off after long seconds. Spock was already up by the time he rolled into a sitting position, grabbing his supply bag and taking off toward the locker room to supposedly change.

Kirk vowed to talk to Spock later when he got the chance. For now, he reveled in the fact he’d gotten away with his little “happening” unscathed in any kind of way.

He looked up and happened to catch Chekov’s gaze, who immediately flushed and looked away, dancing slightly on his feet before hurrying off in Sulu’s direction.

Well, crap. Almost unscathed.

\---------------

**4\. The mess**

The fourth time was an accident, of course, and later he would consider himself lucky they happened to be at a table near the back at the time.

But seriously, what the fuck. Was Spock _planning_ this shit now?

His fork had slipped out of his hand, and as he automatically leaned over to retrieve it, Spock had sprung upon the opportunity – in, ahem… both senses of the phrase.

Hand not even having brushed the fallen utensil yet, Kirk was suddenly flipped over in his chair, draped across the seat on his stomach and promptly mounted. The frustrated sigh he was about to let escape abruptly shifted into a soft gasp as Spock rutted against him from above. He attempted to push himself up, but it was no use – Spock was too heavy. Eventually Kirk did sigh, settling for bracing his hands on the floor and riding it out. Spock immediately took his temporary submission in stride, fingers curving to grip his ass tighter and molding his form over the human’s.

Kirk didn’t squeak – no, he said he _didn’t_ – when Spock bumped particularly hard against his perineum through layers of fabric. His eyes widened and he bit his lip as he realized that his body was starting to react to the treatment. The human started squirming, but it only served to make the half-Vulcan tighten his grip and thrust harder.

In a sudden move Spock stopped, then dismounted him and pulled away. Kirk remained over the chair, willing his body to just _stop it_ , until finally, after a long minute, everything was down to, ah… normal size.

He righted himself in the chair, freezing in place at the sight of McCoy sitting across the table with an eyebrow raised.

Next to him, Spock had resumed his meal as if nothing had happened.

Kirk glanced from side to side, not quite sure just how long the doctor had been sitting at their table. Clearing his throat lightly, he lifted up his nearly forgotten utensil. “Uh… dropped my fork.”

\---------------

**5\. Sickbay**

Apparently he wasn’t even safe in the medical bay, which was a total surprise to him considering that Bones was practically Spock repellent.

Kirk didn’t even know what he’d done to provoke it this time around, but it didn’t even matter now. At this point it was plainly clear his ass was a Spock magnet – a well-shaped, admittedly sexy and irresistible Spock magnet. He supposed he couldn’t fault the half-Vulcan too much in the end.

But no, seriously.

He should have taken the rapidly loudening footfalls behind him for the warning that they were, but then again, what hope did he have against Spock at this point? Before he could register anything other than the fact that _shit_ , it was happening again, his first officer had skidded to a halt directly behind him. Kirk was unceremoniously lifted up and laid face-down on a nearby biobed, his hips jutting out off the edge and his legs dangling helplessly above the floor. Hands drifted up to curl possessively around the front of his thighs, effectively pulling them out and apart, allowing Spock to step forward and wedge himself in between them like he goddamn well belonged there.

“Spock,” Kirk spat out once the sense of surprise wore off. “Spock, we seriously need to talk about–”

Oh fuck. Oh, holy _fuck_. It was as if Spock was actually trying to fuck him through his pants now. The rest of Kirk’s sentence died in his throat, his blue eyes going wide and jaw going slack as the half-Vulcan proceeded to hump the fucking daylights out of him. His hands scrambled for purchase against the soft, squishy surface of the biobed, eventually finding a decent edge to hold onto; Spock’s grip on him only prevented Kirk from jarring forward so much, after all.

“S-Spock, you… _Ah_. I mean it, y-you really– _ah! Ah-haaa…!_ ” Kirk squeezed his eyes shut, squirming at the sheer force Spock was exerting on him – and at the extent to which his own body was reacting. With each thrust Kirk’s growing erection rubbed against the side of the biobed, ultimately adding to the stimulation he was already receiving. And god, did he secretly have some kind of voyeuristic kink? Because the idea that they were on some random biobed smack-dab in the middle of sickbay – a _fucking public_ area – and that anyone could just come waltzing by was just so _ohhh, sweet Jesus, what was that Spock was touching, yessss, right there_ …

Spock leaned over him, his chest rumbling against Kirk’s back with growling breaths. Kirk positively whimpered, burying his face against the biobed’s surface; there was really no fighting it anymore. Fully hard and slowly beginning to ache, Kirk wriggled backwards in growing desperation, seeking more of that contact, that tight friction.

A few thrusts just barely jabbed between his cheeks through fabric, and Kirk’s cock twitched dangerously. A warm mouth opened against his shoulder and teeth bit it through his tunic, and he was nearly hyperventilating with disbelief as he erupted in his pants in short bursts.

Spock slowed to a stop against him. The half-Vulcan righted himself, still hard against his captain as he lay recovering from his unexpected orgasm. Kirk remained still, not really trusting himself to move properly just yet. Nevertheless, he couldn’t repress the shiver along his spine when a large hand dipped just under his tunic to pet languidly at the small of his back. Before Kirk could properly voice his pleasure, the hand and its owner were gone, leaving him rather messily sprawled, and admittedly happily so, on the biobed in the middle of sickbay.

And he couldn’t really bring himself to care that someone – oh god, _Bones_ , he thought wickedly – might just walk in to find him in such a display.

Yeah, he was totally fucked.

\---------------

**6\. The bridge**

Kirk admitted it: he totally walked into the sixth occurrence, but in his defense he was on duty at the time, and anytime he was in “captain mode” it kind of took precedence over everything else.

Besides, Spock had been relatively professional for the past day and a half, so was it really his fault for getting lulled into a false sense of security?

…Okay, maybe it was.

In the end, while conversing with his first at his station about a recent anomaly the _Enterprise_ had passed, Kirk didn’t think twice about asking to look into the scanner to see the data results for himself. Naturally, Spock stepped aside and let him.

Kirk stiffened immediately when he felt Spock slide into position behind him not five seconds after he’d leaned down to the scanner’s level. Oh god. Oh, _no no no_ , not on the bridge. Not while they were on duty. People were going to see, didn’t Spock _realize?_

And when Kirk realized what his prime concern at the moment was – that they were in public and on _duty_ , not that Spock was doing this to him in the first place – he couldn’t help but tense up even further when he contemplated just what that implied.

A warm weight settled over his back and a pair of arms looped around his waist from behind, and Kirk held back a gasp as Spock started moving against him. The anticipated hard thrusts never came; instead, Spock simply rocked against him, rolling his hips back and forth in a steady rhythm. Kirk gripped the sides of the scanner tightly and rested his forehead against the top of it, struggling not to make any noise. It seemed that no matter what speed or intensity he moved with, Spock knew exactly what to do to illicit a response from him. A stirring warmth began forming in the pit of Kirk’s belly, and before he knew it he was rocking back in time with Spock’s movements.

His body jerked slightly as if suddenly startled awake. Kirk shut his eyes tightly, attempting to control himself. He was a fucking _captain_ , dammit! It was one thing to allow Spock to do this while off duty, but on the bridge _Kirk_ was in charge, and fuck him if he was going to–

Hot breath puffed against the skin just behind his ear – fucking hell, Spock was _snuffling his neck_ – and suddenly one of the hands on his waist dipped down and snaked its way beneath his tunic and undershirt, spreading questing fingers over his stomach. Kirk couldn’t help but squirm under the touch and Spock held onto him tighter, digging his nose further behind the human’s ear. The captain eventually turned his head to the side in order to alleviate the tickling effect Spock’s breathing was having on him.

He abruptly froze.

At her station next to Spock’s, Uhura quickly looked away from their direction and consciously fumbled with her earpiece in an apparent attempt to look busy. Despite her darkened skin tone, Kirk could have sworn he could make out a light flush on her cheeks.

Well, now it was just perfect. Kirk inwardly cursed – he could only imagine what it was like to turn away from your work for just one second, only to see your ex nonchalantly humping your captain just feet away. As if sensing his shift in attention, Spock’s free hand drifted down to paw at his crotch; Kirk just barely managed to muffle his surprised squeak, reducing it instead to a tiny hiccup. Apparently pleased, Spock nuzzled his face back into his neck, his softly emitted purr echoing rather loudly in the human’s ear. Out of the corner of his eye, Kirk saw Uhura place a fist over her mouth.

At this point, the last thing he wanted to do was drag the communications officer further into his predicament. But hell, it was getting harder and harder to keep quiet, and Spock seemed to be getting more confident with each passing minute. Plus, now that he had at least one person’s attention, Kirk realized he could really use the help.

He swallowed before speaking up in a quiet whisper. “Uhura.”

She just barely turned to look at him; the hand still in front of her mouth left Kirk unable to discern her actual expression.

“Call sickbay,” he whispered quickly. “Tell Doctor McCoy I’m–” He cut off as Spock gave a particularly sharp thrust and growled lowly against his throat (although it seemed to work less as a warning and more as a source of apparent stimulus in Kirk’s case.) Uhura made an indistinguishable noise, and before Kirk could start to worry about what she was thinking, her fist shifted just enough that he could see the slightly upturned corners of her mouth.

The corner of his right eye twitched. He couldn’t believe it.

She was _laughing_ at him.

“Oh you can just go to hell!” he hissed as inaudibly as he could manage. Uhura snorted just as softly, her demeanor totally humorous now that it was visible and in the open.

Fuck help, he was making a break for it.

“You have the conn.”

“What?”

“ _You_ ,” oh, oh _shit_ , Spock was licking him now, “have the conn, Lieutenant.”

Screw confirmation, he was done. Without waiting a minute longer, Kirk lurched away from the scanner and towards the turbolift, not entirely taking into account just how tightly Spock’s grip still was on him. He abruptly tumbled to the floor, hoping his mild flailing wasn’t enough to attract too much attention, and quickly scrambled to stand once he recovered from the fall – no way was he letting Spock get on top of him in clear view of the bridge.

Not even before the welcoming sound of the lift doors shutting filled his ears, Kirk found himself pushed up against the cylindrical wall, realizing with a start that Spock had followed him inside. The lift traveled for a short second before Kirk’s hand traveled along the wall to press on the emergency stop button, quickly halting mid-deck. He sighed in relieved content.

Perfect. Now that they were alone he could just relax and let Spock touch him.

…Wait, what?

Spock thrust against him, his body a vibrating, purring mass and pressing bodily against Kirk’s from the hips up. When a hand wandered down towards the front of Kirk’s pants, Jim shot out a hand to catch it, ending up twining his fingers with Spock’s. The half-Vulcan sighed warmly against his neck, murmuring something Kirk couldn’t make out into his skin. Their fingers brushed pads and suddenly Spock gasped, stilling against Kirk’s body.

Kirk didn’t move.

“…Captain?”

Kirk shut his eyes, not knowing if he felt relieved or disappointed.

“We’re going to sickbay, Spock.”

After a moment, Spock stepped back. He said nothing, but pressed the button to reengage the lift.

It was all Kirk could do maintain composure during the rest of the lift ride, and he wasn’t quite sure what made it so hard.

Fuck it. He was figuring this thing out once and for all.

\---------------

**+1. Jim’s quarters**

In the end it didn’t take much longer to make a decision.

Kirk made sure to time everything perfectly, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist just as his door chimed.

“Enter,” Kirk called, satisfied his voice came out sounding as calm and professional as he’d intended. Quickly messing his hair into a decent shape, Kirk stepped into the bathroom doorway and leaned against it, waiting for his first officer to come into view. His heart was starting to pound with anticipation, but it was unclear just how much of it was nervousness and how much was excitement.

Spock appeared through the bedroom door, looking as decidedly nervous as a Vulcan could. When he saw Kirk he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes quickly averted to the side, but – Kirk noticed with satisfaction – not before trailing up and down the mostly-naked body of his captain.

“Captain, what are you doing?” the half-Vulcan asked, his voice soft but strained.

Intent on going through with his plan, Kirk stepped closer, sashaying his hips purposefully as he walked. “I don’t know, Spock,” he said innocently. “You tell me.” He stopped just inches from Spock, reaching out to toy with the button on his trousers. Spock visibly stiffened, but made no move to distance himself from Kirk.

“This is inappropriate behavior.”

Kirk couldn’t help it – he laughed. It figured that the one time he was practically throwing himself out in offering Spock was actually showing restraint. “You don’t say? So everything that happened this last week was completely acceptable?”

Spock flushed lightly. Actually _flushed_. “I apologize. It will not happen again. If that is all, I will–”

“Computer, lock door; enforce captain’s security code, Kirk-alpha-one-five. Disable all overriding codes save chief medical officer McCoy.”

“ _Code accepted. Door locked._ ”

Spock finally looked him in the eye, looking as frankly upset as Kirk had ever seen him. Kirk almost felt a little guilty, but he quickly recovered. Now that he had Spock here, there was no way he was letting him off so easily.

“Captain. …Jim. You do not know what it is you are doing.”

“Don’t I?” Kirk took two steps back, watching as the half-Vulcan kept his eyes steady on him. “Luckily for both of us, after Bones’ exam told us what it did and you still wouldn’t tell me anything, I realized all I had to do was talk to someone who would.”

It only took two seconds for Spock’s expression to solidify into one of understanding. “You speak of my elder counterpart.” He slowly shook his head, stepping forward toward Kirk. “You still do not understand what you are offering–”

“Spock, hear me out. I’ve had time to think about this–”

“I do not believe the length of a day constitutes as enough time to soundly make a decision as–”

“I mean since the beginning,” Kirk finally said, now desperate to get through to Spock without being interrupted. “Back after that chess match, actually. I swear, Spock, I’m not jumping into this blindly. I… I may not have known what was going on at the beginning, but now…” He stopped, thinking it over only for a second before reaching out and touching the other’s cheek. Spock’s face remained impassive, but his eyes spoke volumes, his pupils near to full dilation. “Spock, I would do anything for you. You’re one of my best friends; sometimes you even feel like a brother. But…” Kirk paused, feeling himself smile. “Maybe we can be more.”

The breath that left the half-Vulcan was near to no stronger than any normal exhale, and yet it was practically a heaving sigh coming from Spock.

“Jim, cease this,” he said, the corner of his mouth shifting against where Kirk’s thumb pressed against it. “You are testing the limits of my control. If I do not leave here before it breaks I will disregard everything and simply take what I want.”

The corners of Kirk’s mouth turned upward. He leaned in closer. “And what is it you want?” His fingers trailed up to slowly pinch and caress one of the pointed ears, and suddenly Spock’s eyes squeezed shut as the half-Vulcan sucked in an inaudible breath.

“I want…”

In a swift move, Spock reached up and snatched Kirk’s hand into his, possessive fingers digging into his skin. Brown eyes opened to reveal something feral within their depths, and Kirk felt something pleasurable and dangerous tingle up his spine.

“ _You_ , Jim.” Kirk’s arm was pushed against his chest as he was forced back into the bathroom doorway. “I want you. I am drawn to you in a way I cannot properly express. I want to mark you – claim you as mine. …You _are_ mine, and I want you to accept and acknowledge this fact.” Spock’s voice was roughening with each sentence, his words becoming more and more confidant, as if he was merely stating commonly known truths. “Thou art mine, James Kirk, and I will take thee as my mate.”

Reaching down, Kirk jerked off his towel and let it fall to the floor.

“Then come and get me.”

With a low, heated noise Spock surged forward, capturing Kirk’s mouth between eager lips and teeth. Kirk grinned against the contact, managing to yank open Spock’s pants before he was manhandled against the bathroom counter and unceremoniously flipped around and bent over it. Excitement thrummed in Kirk’s veins, his cock already beginning to pulse with pleasure and anticipation as the familiar weight of Spock’s body settled over him.

This was happening – this was actually happening.

Spock began rutting sporadically against him, his erection prodding aimlessly against the human’s backside. Kirk widened his stance, arching his ass up to provide better access. When Spock’s penis continued to merely slide back and forth between his cheeks, he sighed and reached back and underneath him. With some effort he took hold of the thick organ and attempted to guide it to his entrance. Spock shuddered behind him, twitching his hips in tiny thrusts within Kirk’s grip but keeping still enough to allow himself to be moved.

The very tip of Spock finally breached him, and something further in the half-Vulcan seemed to snap.

Kirk’s eyes grew immensely as Spock began thrusting frantically into him. A groan stuttered out of him and he scrambled for a steady purchase on top of the counter. Having Spock briefly in his hand was _nothing_ compared to having him sheathed inside his body, pumping in and out with a mind-blowing pace. Spock was by no means small, and Kirk paused momentarily in his sensory-dominated state to thank the foresight he’d had to prepare himself thoroughly in the shower beforehand.

Spock was strangely silent above him, his breath coming in deep, soft pants, but there was nothing soft in the manner he was moving within the body beneath him. Kirk knew he was moaning like a bitch in heat, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care, not with that impressive girth filling him with such pleasure. It had been so long since he’d taken another male in such a way, but it had never felt like _this_ , that much he could remember. He was sure he’d never be able to even think about going back to multiple, meaningless partners after this.

Spock must have sensed his wandering thoughts – there was a low growl behind Kirk’s ear before the half-Vulcan’s body draped completely over his back, pressing him bodily onto the counter. He cried out sharply as teeth clamped down on the back of his neck and his ass was promptly fucked harder.

“Yes, Spock,” he breathed, his cheek flush against the counter’s cool surface. “That’s it, fuck me. Make me yours.” His gaze shifted more to the side and he caught sight of their reflection in one of the larger mirrors on the bathroom’s wall. Kirk’s breath left him at the vision of their connected bodies, his own nakedness bent willingly over in submission with Spock’s form rutting against him from behind. It was amazing in itself to see it – Spock fully dressed as he always was, the only hint of dishevelment being the increasingly tousled appearance of his normally clean-cut hair.

Strong fingers continued to grip Kirk’s hips with bruising force, and suddenly Spock’s angle tilted from above and the human’s prostate was being hammered into repeatedly. Kirk’s eyes went wide, his vision abruptly lit with blinding stars and his jaw hanging down in ecstasy – and if he didn’t know any better, it was as though Spock was starting to _swell_ inside him.

…Except that _holy fuck_ , it really did feel like Spock was growing. _Really_ growing.

A thought crossed his mind.

No way. No _fucking_ way. Fucking hell, was Spock really… was he _knotting_ him?

In another startling second Kirk was coming, the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him having been pushed to the limit, and his thought process was wiped clean. He reflexively clenched down on Spock’s length and the teeth on his neck bit harder into his skin in response. The half-Vulcan came just seconds afterward, his orgasm rocketing through Kirk’s channel in a single hot wave.

Spock released his mouth’s grip, essentially collapsing onto the body beneath him. Kirk gave his ass an experimental tug forward, his suspicions confirmed as Spock’s hips came with him rather than remaining stationary, his cock still hard and throbbing within. It was clear they weren’t separating soon.

The hands on Kirk’s hips loosened their hold, drifting over his skin in order to caress his ass and thighs possessively.

“ _Mine_ ,” came the rumbling proclamation into his ear.

_Yes_ , Kirk thought quietly, a satisfied smile beginning to grow on his lax face. _Hell yes_.


End file.
